


Broken legs and happy homes

by TetrodotoxinB



Series: Whumptober 2020 [25]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Broken Bone, Child Neglect, Day 25, Found Family, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, James MacGyver's A+ parenting, Medical Care, Whumptober 2020, alternate prompt, compound fracture, falling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27203179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TetrodotoxinB/pseuds/TetrodotoxinB
Summary: Mac falls out of a tree and breaks his leg. As it turns out, it's not the worst thing that could have happened.
Series: Whumptober 2020 [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947493
Comments: 21
Kudos: 74
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Broken legs and happy homes

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [aravenwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aravenwood/pseuds/aravenwood) for her extreme kindness in being willing to beta all of these whumptober fills! Especially so since she's also writing her own (amazing!) fics too! Please go check her out and give her some love!!!

Spring break is Mac’s favorite time of the year. Winter break he spends listening to Dad complain about commercialized holidays and doing chores. Summer break Dad generally has planned out — chores, studying, practical projects. But spring break is only a week and Dad never seems to bother with it. So of course, it’s the one week a year that Mac gets to be free.

Mac loves spending the night at the Bozers’ house. They have family meals, watch movies together, and play games. Mrs. Bozer even bought a secondhand bike for Mac that she keeps at her house, and while it’s great, it’s also weird. 

Mac’s also not really sure what to make of the soft way she looks at him sometimes. Like why she hugged him when he explained that Bozer doesn’t come to his birthday parties because Mac doesn’t have birthday parties. Or that time Mac panicked when Bozer started talking about his grades to his parents and then she started crying when Mac started trying to cover for Bozer. Mac was just trying to keep Bozer safe because Dad would have made the lesson stick in the worst way. But for all of spring break, Mac is happy and doesn’t worry about any of the rest of it. Here he can do all the things he has always wanted to. 

Things like climb trees. Mac loves climbing. Sitting in trees and listening to the birds is the best but Dad doesn’t allow it because it’s a waste of time. But when he’s with Bozer, they always play games like super-spy or Tarzan, scampering through the boughs and making guns out of sticks or trying to swing from vines.

It’s the swinging from vines that turns out to be the problem. 

As Mac falls, he is acutely aware of just how stupid it was to hang off of a leafless vine. Leafless means dead and dead means rotting. Any further reflection on his choices is lost when Mac collides with the ground. The impact knocks the breath out of him but Mac barely registers that. All he knows is that his leg hurts. He can’t help the shriek of pain when he tries to move and tears instantly spring to his eyes.

“Mac!” Bozer calls, quickly climbing back down the tree. “Mac, oh crap dude. There’s a bone sticking out of your leg. Oh crap. Oh my god. Mom!!!”

Bozer flops to the ground beside Mac, hyperventilating and crying, but all Mac can do is scream. It hurts so much, much worse than any lesson Dad ever taught him. And it occurs to Mac that Dad is going to be so mad. Mac is never gonna see Bozer again after school. No more playing. No more sleepovers. No more family game nights or ice cream. His leg is broken and he might be bleeding to death and the only good thing in his life is gone.

By the time Mrs. Bozer gets to them, Mac’s sobbing, and he clings to her despite the pain in his leg. 

“I’m so sorry. I don’t wanna go home. He’ll never let me see you again,” Mac sobs. 

She runs her fingers through his hair and shushes him. “Help’s on its way. You just be still. I’ve got you,” she says.

*****

They put Mac in the ambulance and make Mrs. Bozer stay behind. He doesn’t want to be alone, but the paramedics don’t seem to be listening to him so he stops talking. He doesn’t want the man to tell Dad that he begged. Mac knows better than to fight them, too, and he grits his teeth as the man puts an IV in both arms. 

He tries to be brave and not cry, but it all hurts so much and Mac just wants someone to hug him. Mom would have hugged him and suddenly Mac feels utterly alone. And he sobs all over again.

*****

Mac goes through x-rays and more needle sticks, but three hours later Dad still isn’t there. Instead, the nurse comes back with a gentle smile on her face.

“Hey, sweetie. We got ahold of your dad. He said he can’t make it right now, but he’ll be here later. We’re gonna go ahead and fix your leg up in the meantime, okay?” 

Mac swallows. He doesn’t really want Dad there; he’d just call Mac an irresponsible baby or something. But he’s scared.

“Does that mean you’re gonna do surgery?” he asks.

She sits carefully on the bed, opposite his broken leg. “Yeah, sweetie. You won’t feel a thing. We’ll give you some good stuff, make you sleep through the whole thing, and when you’re done everything will be back where it belongs.”

Mac nods. He doesn’t wanna cry again. The drugs they gave him for the pain are great but it’s harder to keep it all in. Tears drip down his cheeks and he stares at his toes under the covers, desperate to avoid eye contact. 

The nurse puts her hand on his hand and rubs her thumb softly against his skin. “You’re pretty scared, huh?”

Mac nods. Nodding probably won’t get him in trouble and she seems nice enough.

“I’d probably be pretty scared, too. You know it’s okay to be scared and it’s okay to cry. Everyone gets scared sometimes.”

Mac knows she’s just saying this because he’s eight and she thinks he needs to hear it. He hates that her saying it helps, though, because Dad would never say those things.

“They’ll call us back soon, kiddo. In the meantime, I gotta give you a wipe down. We have special wipes for all the yucky nasties that live on skin. It’s so you don’t get an infection,” she explains.

No one has given him a bath since Mom. Well, there were a couple of times he and Bozer took a bath together when they were little and Mrs. Bozer washed them up, but Dad never did that. He expected Mac to take care of himself. He’s not entirely sure he’s okay with this lady seeing him naked. But again, if he puts up a fight it’ll just be something else Dad will hold against him later.

The wipes are cold but the nurse tries to keep him mostly covered up while she works. Mac’s grateful that she doesn’t just strip him bare on the bed like he expected, though it’s still pretty embarrassing. 

“Okay, kiddo. I know that wasn’t fun, but you were so awesome. Can I go get you something?” she asks.

“Food?” Mac asks, hopeful for something since it’s been hours since breakfast.

Her smile wilts. “Sorry, kiddo no food before surgery. But how about a present?”

Mac would really prefer food, but it would be rude to complain and even more rude to refuse a gift. “Thank you,” he says softly.

She smiles again. “Be right back.”

Mac fiddles with the seam on the edge of the blanket and tries not to watch the clock. He’s scared that any minute now they’ll take him back to surgery and maybe the nurse won’t be back in time. He doesn’t really want the present, but she’s so nice and hasn’t said anything mean at all. She’s kind of like Mrs. Bozer like that.

The door opens and the nurse pokes her head in. Mac breathes a sigh of relief.

“Close your eyes,” she says.

Mac obeys immediately and listens to her footsteps as she crosses the room. Then something soft and fuzzy appears in his hands.

“Open your eyes!” she says, and Mac looks down to see a brown teddy bear about the size of his science book sitting in his lap. He’s always wanted something like this to hold and cuddle up with at night, even though Dad says he’s too old.

 _Dad._ Mac knows what he’ll say when he sees it. Mac would rather give it back now than have Dad throw it away later. 

“No, thank you,” he says softly. He digs his fingers into it, loath to let go of the soft fur, and trying to enjoy whatever last moments he can before she takes it back. 

The nurse looks sad. “It’s okay, honey. There’s people who give them to us to give to kids. Don’t feel bad.”

Mac shakes his head because she misunderstands. “Dad says stuffed animals are too childish and a waste of time and space. He got rid of mine after Mom died. I wouldn’t get to keep it.”

The nurse makes a horrible choking noise and claps her hand over her mouth. “Oh, baby. As long as you’re here, you get to keep your bear. I promise you that. If he won’t let you take him home, I’ll take him home and make sure he’s well loved. How does that sound?”

Mac looks at the bear. It’s just fabric and stuffing, it doesn’t need someone to love it for him if he’s unavailable. But regardless of that, it still sounds really nice. He wishes his old stuffed animals had someone to love them instead of going in the garbage.

He nods and smiles, his little fingers threading into the fur. “I love him. Thank you.” 

She smiles, but Mac can see that there are tears in her eyes. He wants to ask why but he knows it’s not polite. So he hugs the bear into his chest and closes his eyes.

*****

When Mac wakes up his leg _hurts._ The nurse by the bed is someone Mac doesn’t recognize and he wants the nurse from before. He wants her to make it stop hurting and he wants his teddy bear. 

“Here, sweetheart. I’ve got your bear,” she says, noticing that Mac’s eyes are open.

Mac reaches out immediately, his head swimming and his hands weird and uncoordinated. The moment he feels the fur in his hands, Mac starts crying. He’s soft and snuggly and not scary or painful at all. 

“Does it hurt?” she asks.

Mac nods as he squishes the bear into his chest. The nurse promises to make it better and injects something into his IV. After a minute or so the pain sort of becomes less important, like it’s far away. He stops crying as much, too. He has his bear and he’s warm and sleepy.

*****

Everything sucks. They poke him all the time for blood or whatever, and Mac feels like a pin-cushion, tiny purple marks all over his arms. And to add insult to injury, the food tastes like the MREs Dad makes him eat when they take survival training camping trips and they won’t let him get out of bed, though Mac’s not sure he really wants to try to move. Because despite the medicines they give him that make his head fuzzy and cause him to sleep all day, his leg still hurts, especially when they change the bandages. Mac tries to be brave but it’s hard sometimes, but the nurses seem not to mind a few tears as long as he behaves so it’s not as bad as it could be. 

But almost as bad as his leg is the boredom. He lost interest in the cartoons and stuff on TV after like an hour, and now he’s relegated to counting dots on ceiling tiles and making little shapes out of the paperclips he stole from his chart when the nurse wasn’t looking. 

Dad came by yesterday, though. It wasn’t great. He told Mac all the things he thought he’d say — how he’s never playing over at the Bozers again, how he was immature and irresponsible for climbing that tree, how he was acting childish by having the bear that the ER nurse gave him, how he was wasting Dad’s valuable time and money by landing himself in the hospital. Mac just listened, quietly nodding and saying “yes, sir” and “I understand, sir” and “I’m sorry, sir,” until Dad was done and left. 

But all in all, it still could have been worse. If they’d been at home, Mac has no doubt that Dad would have taught him another “lesson.” Not to mention that Dad couldn’t yell since they were in the hospital. He was sad about the visit, but not entirely upset. It had been coming and honestly Mac was just glad it was over with. 

What Mac didn’t expect was the nurse who was clearly waiting in the hallway and listening. The look of anger on her face when Dad opened the door scared Mac. She was normally so nice and sweet. He was worried that she might say something to Dad and Mac would have to hear about it later, but she just scowled at Dad until he left and then came to sit down with Mac. 

So besides the really nice nurses that come to sit with him. It all sucks very, very much.

*****

Mac’s finally been gifted an entire box of paperclips to play with after one of the nurses saw some of his creations, and he’s happily going through them all when he hears a commotion in the hall. 

“I don’t care if he’s not _my_ baby. His own father isn’t coming up here, is he?” There’s a pause and someone says something too quietly for Mac to understand. “Well, that’s why I’m here. If that sorry excuse for a man would give him to me, that boy would be my baby. It should be good enough for you that someone at least cares enough to love him right.”

Mrs. Bozer!! 

Mac’s heart leaps and he pushes the call button repeatedly. “Nurses’ station, is everything okay, Mac?”

“Please let Mrs. Bozer come in. Please,” he pleads. “She’s my best friend’s mom and she’s so nice. Please, no one else is gonna come to see me.”

He knows begging might get him in trouble — especially the part where he plays on their heartstrings about his situation — but so would seeing Mrs. Bozer in the first place and Mac just doesn’t care anymore. He wants someone he knows. He’s tired and he hurts and he spends most of his day by himself just being bored and scared in equal measure. And if Dad wants to be mad about it later then he can be because at this point Mac thinks he’s just gonna be mad no matter what. Mac just knows that he wants a hug.

“Okay, honey. Okay,” the nurse concedes.

“Thank you!” he shouts into the speaker. 

A moment later the door opens and Mrs. Bozer rushes to Mac, carefully pulling him into her arms as she sits on the edge of the bed. 

“Oh, honey. Have you been here all alone?” she asks, sitting back and cupping his cheek.

Mac nods and presses his face into her palm. “Dad came by once to get onto me but he didn’t stay.”

“Mmm, mmm, mmm,” she murmurs, shaking her head, and Mac can hear the disapproval in her voice. “Baby, I am so sorry. That man does not see a good thing when it’s right in front of his face, and you child, are a good thing.”

Mac loves this woman with all his heart. She’s not his mom, but she’s definitely _a_ mom and it’s really nice. It’s kinda like standing in the sun when it’s chilly outside but the light is enough to warm your skin. Being in the way of her mom-energy is like that. She just warms him right up.

Mac’s so busy basking in Mrs. Bozer’s maternal love, that he doesn’t even notice the nurse standing there and he nearly jumps when she speaks.

“Are you going to be spending the night?”

Mrs. Bozer nods. “I am.”

“Okay, I’ll get you some blankets and pillows for the fold out bed.”

Once the nurse leaves, Mrs. Bozer picks up the teddy bear and inspects it. “So tell me about your friend.”

Mac smiles. “The nurse in the ER gave him to me.”

She smiles. “I see they even fixed his leg like yours.”

Mac nods. “They change his bandages everyday, too. The doctor told me that when they finally cast my leg that he’ll get a cast too.” Mac frowns as he thinks about going home; Dad will never let him bring the bear. “Of course I won’t get to keep him so it doesn’t really matter.”

Mrs. Bozer puts her hand under Mac’s chin and lifts his face up to look him in the eyes. “You don’t worry about your friend here. I’ll take him home and keep him safe for you and when you come over he’ll be waiting.”

Mac sniffles and wipes at his eyes. “Dad says I can’t ever visit you again.”

She frowns again and Mac really, really hates when she frowns. He looks away and wipes his eyes again. “Don’t you worry about that.”

Mac has no idea what she means by that but if there was ever an adult to trust it would be Mrs. Bozer. “Yes, ma’am,” he says softly.

She kisses him on the forehead and gets up, moving to the chair beside the bed and rummaging through her overnight bag. She pulls out a copy of Holes. Mac recognizes it as the copy Bozer bought at the book fair last year because he drew a Nike swoosh on the red ball cap on the cover. 

Mac settles in and listens to Mrs. Bozer as she reads, and for the first time in three days he doesn’t worry about anything.

*****

Upon further reflection, Mac thinks that giving Harry’s number to Mrs. Bozer might have been a bad idea. Of course it’s too late to worry about that now because Harry is standing next to Dad beside the hospital bed. Dad looks furious and Harry doesn’t look much better, but at least his anger isn’t directed at Mac.

“What were you thinking, Angus? Why would you give your grandfather’s number to Mrs. Bozer? She told Harry that you were being neglected. That’s a bit dramatic don’t you think?” Dad says harshly.

“I didn’t tell her to do anything!” Mac protests. “She just asked if she could have another emergency contact number for me. I didn’t know what she was going to do. Honest.”

James glares. “Even so, you knew that you were forbidden to see that family again yet she’s been staying here with you for two days. What do you have to say for that?”

Mac looks at his hands and pointedly ignores the bear sitting on the bed next to him. Maybe if he doesn’t bring attention to it Dad won’t do anything to his bear. “She came up here all on her own. I didn’t want to be rude and ask her to leave. I figured she wanted to be here since she went to the effort,” Mac says quietly. He knows Dad doesn’t believe a word, even if none of it is a lie. 

“You went against my direct wishes and you wasted that woman’s time by letting her stay up here to baby you. It’s completely unacceptable. There will be consequences for this, Angus,” Dad promises.

“Don’t you think the boy’s been through enough?” Harry asks. “He broke his leg, he’s had surgery, and he’s got weeks before he’ll be able to walk again. You think he needs you to punish him too?”

“Don’t undermine my authority in front my son,” Dad snaps.

“If this is how you use your authority, maybe you shouldn’t have any,” Harry shoots back.

Mac doesn’t know his granddad all that well, but he never imagined the quiet spoken old man to be so forceful. It’s a little jarring.

“Oh so you think you can raise my son better than me?” Dad asks.

Harry laughs and it’s a cold, bitter thing. “That bar’s a lot lower than you realize, James. And yeah, I could raise him better. That Bozer woman sure could.”

Dad huffs. “Fine, if that’s what you want. But I’m warning you he’s not an easy child.”

The words sting, though he’s heard them before, and Mac’s heart aches as Dad walks out the door without so much as a goodbye. He wants to be mad because Mrs. Bozer doesn’t think he’s a problem kid which probably means Dad’s just a jerk, but mostly Mac’s just sad. He wants his dad to love him the way Boze's dad loves him, but as the door closes behind Dad, Mac knows that’s never going to happen.

Harry runs his fingers through his hair. “Well, that could have gone better, huh?”

Mac huffs a laugh and smiles, still looking at his fingers. “Could have gone worse too.”

Harry smiles sadly. “Is your old man pretty mean like that all the time?”

Mac shakes his head. “No, he’s usually worse. He’s just trying not to get in trouble with the nurses. I think they hate him.”

“Gee, I can’t imagine why,” Harry mutters as he sits down in Mrs. Bozer’s chair. 

They sit there in silence for a minute before Mac asks the only thing he’s really interested in. “You think Dad meant it? About you trying to raise me instead?”

Harry sighs. “I don’t know, son. But I hope so.”

And whatever answer Mac expected, it wasn’t that. He didn’t expect someone to just want to take him home. Mrs. Bozer kinda doesn’t count because Mac knows that she’d bring home and raise pretty much any kid she found that needed someone. So it’s not so much that he’s special, but rather _she’s_ special. That doesn’t make him feel bad though, in fact it’s the opposite. He’s not special and she still cares about him a whole lot. There’s nothing to live up to, no weird expectations. She just loves him. She’s kinda the best mom, besides his mom, but she doesn’t count anymore.

But unlike Mrs. Bozer, Mac doesn’t know Harry all that well. There are of course good signs, like for instance he doesn’t approve of how Dad talks to Mac and he was willing to drive all this way based on whatever Mrs. Bozer told him when she called. But Mac doesn’t know much else. It’s been since the Christmas after mom died since he saw Harry. Why wasn’t he around the next year, or the two years after that? His absence means something but Mac just isn’t sure what.

*****

That afternoon a lady who calls herself a social worker comes to Mac’s room. Harry and Mrs. Bozer aren’t allowed to stay but they both promise to wait just outside in case he needs them. The lady, Maggie, seems nice enough, but she asks Mac a lot of weird questions about Dad. 

Does he hit? How does he hit? Does he yell? What does he say? Why was Mac scared to take the teddy bear? What did he think would happen? What does he think will happen when he gets home? Will Dad teach him another lesson?

Mac doesn’t like these questions but Mrs. Bozer promised that being honest wouldn’t get him in any trouble and he doesn’t want to disappoint her. Maggie takes lots of notes and smiles encouragingly when he struggles, but after a while, Mac can’t help the tears. Maggie promised that nothing Mac said would get back to Dad so he hugs his teddy bear into his chest, but he just can’t bring himself to ask her to get Mrs. Bozer. 

“I think you’ve told me everything I need to know, Angus,” Maggie says with a smile. “Do you want me to have your grandpa and Mrs. Bozer come back in?”

Mac nods vigorously. “Yes, ma’am.”

The moment Maggie opens the door, Mrs. Bozer rushes in and scoops Mac into her arms. He clings to her, burying his face in her neck, the scent of her lotion reminding him of weekend BBQ and bedtime stories.

“I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. You did so good for Ms. Maggie,” Mrs. Bozer soothes. Her hands hold him tight, one skimming lightly up and down his back, the other cradling his head. 

Mac can sense Harry lingering in the room and he does his best to calm down sooner rather than later. 

“You alright, son?” Harry asks once Mac and Mrs. Bozer have parted. 

Mac nods and sniffles. “I’m okay. I’m just tired.”

Mrs. Bozer frowns. “You’re hurting again, aren’t you?”

Mac looks down, ashamed that he’s been caught, and nods.

“It’s okay to ask for what you need, honey,” she chides softly. It feels less like he’s in trouble and more like she’s trying to teach him something, but all the same he’s been caught out.

“Yes, ma’am,” he responds. 

“I’ll go talk to the nurses,” Harry offers. “Do either of you want anything from the cafeteria?”

Mrs. Bozer asks for another coffee but Mac just shakes his head. Despite Harry’s kind offer, he can’t just ask for something from the cafeteria, especially since they regularly feed him. Heck, he can’t believe that he truly _needs_ pain meds, but apparently he’s going to have to ask for them when he hurts. Asking for something else is just too much. It feels like he’s already done more than enough asking and needing and wanting for an entire week.

*****

Despite doing everything he’s asked, Mac gets an infection the day before they’re supposed to send him home. It takes another week of IV antibiotics and what seems like a hundred million blood draws before they finally have everything better and they can cast his leg. Usra, as the teddy bear has finally been named, has a cast of his own and a slew of little bandaids all over his arms just like Mac. 

Harry has been staying at night now and he’s not so bad. Mostly they read books — Mrs. Bozer brings a trunkload of stuff that the ladies at the local library pulled together for their favorite patron — and play card games when Mac feels well enough or awake enough to care. 

Mac’s asked some questions, too, prompted by the promise that Harry won’t be offended and would like to know what Mac’s thinking. It’s a little hard to hear that Harry’s years-long absence was Dad’s doing. Of course, it’s better than the alternative that Harry chose to stay out of Mac’s life, but it hurts that Dad chose to take away his grandpa once Mom died. Mac tries to wrap his head around it but he doesn’t understand it at all. 

But finally, once the cast is on and there are no more IVs or blood draws or scratchy hospital gowns, it’s time to go. Mac is practically vibrating with excitement. The boredom, the lack of privacy, the containment, the incessant poking — it’s over. 

Dad never came back, though Maggie did. And while that has its own hurt, Mac feels bubbly and delighted that he’s going home with the Bozers until Harry has a place for them. Boze is even waiting for him in the car, Mac can see him waving and bouncing and mouthing something Mac can’t hear as he comes out the front doors in a wheelchair, and Boze’s energy is contagious. 

Mr. Bozer is there, too, driving the car, and when he comes around to help Mac into the car, Mac can’t help but wrap his arms around Mr. Bozer’s neck. 

“Aw, hey Mac. Missed you, kiddo,” he says, his low voice rumbling in his chest in a way that Mac can feel as he hugs his best friend’s dad. 

“Missed you, too,” Mac mumbles softly. 

Mr. Bozer helps Mac into the backseat and packs Mac’s things into the trunk. It’s exciting, a new life. With a real family. Mac has to remind himself that no matter how awesome it would be, this isn’t permanent. In a couple of months, once Harry’s sold his house up north, moved down to Mission City, and gotten a new place set up for a kid, then Mac will go to live with Harry. 

He can’t help but wonder why he’s not living forever with the Bozers — did Harry argue to keep Mac? Is it because they’re related or because he misses Mac’s mom? Is it because of what happened to Josh a couple of years ago? They’re questions Mac wants to ask but he knows that someone would get hurt if he did, probably mostly Mac. Nothing anyone is gonna say would be what he wants to hear anyway. Mac’s long since learned that about questions. 

Instead, Mac basks in the warmth of the Bozer family, knowing that wherever he lives he’ll still always have them in his life. In a weird way, breaking his leg is one of the worst and best things that could have happened.


End file.
